


Worth

by omgbubblesomg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Cole Trenton - Freeform, Comforting Dean, Dean to the Rescue, Episode: s10e01 Black, Except Dean is Human, Forced Orgasm, Forcing Dean to Watch, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn Video, Sam Whump, Tied-Up Sam, Top Cole, video call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7562959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode 10x01 "Black" where Dean is a human, and very, <i>very</i>, pissed off to hear someone has hands on his brother.</p><p>“It’s nothing personal,” Cole whispered into Sam's ear, too quietly for Dean to hear, “but I need to kill your brother, and I need him off his game when he gets here. I don’t wanna hurt you, kid, but I’m going to, anyway. I’m going to hurt you a lot."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic twice, and the other one is demon!Dean watching Sam and Cole from inside a devil's trap. It is A LOT darker, but if you like a bit (ok a lot) of hurt!Sam then you can read the other fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7570450)

“Ninety minutes away?” said the voice. “Well sorry, Dean-o, but that’s just not going to cut it.” A pause. “No, shut up and listen, asshole. You’re going to call me back in thirty seconds with a better ETA than that, or your brother here is going to lose a nose, and then an ear, then a finger, then, hell, maybe I’ll take some other unnecessary parts from between his legs. I hope for his sake that you can do better than ninety minutes.” _Beep_.

Sam’s brain was slowly coming back into focus, and he tried to follow the conversation as best he could, but a sharp pain at the back of his skull reminded him that thinking wasn’t usually his strong suit after being knocked out cold and left in the dark with a bag over his head.

He took a quick inventory. His limbs still appeared to be attached, but where he could usually feel fingers and wrists he could instead only feel _ouch_ and _fuck_. Now that he was doing a body part stocktake, his back and thighs decided to join the conversation and exclaim, none too gently, that _they fucking hurt too_.

He was face down on a table of some sort, his arms lashed together behind him, forearm to forearm, so that he was gripping his own elbows. The cast on his broken arm was missing, and he thought that might account for the pain radiating down his fingers and through his wrists. The lower half of his body was hanging off the edge of the table, and when he tried to move his legs he found that they were tied into place against the table legs, keeping his feet apart and impeding any sort of core body movement that he might have otherwise employed to help him get out of this mess.

A phone rang somewhere behind him, and the voice answered.

“Got me a better offer there, Dean-o?” A pause. “an hour, huh? Do you really expect me to believe that’s the best you can do?” Another pause. “Well _I_ think that maybe you just don’t care enough about your little brother. He’s just waking up now. Wanna say hi?”

The bag on his head was whipped off, and Sam blinked in the sudden light. A phone - _his_ phone - was thrust in front of his face, and he recognised Dean’s caller ID (it was a picture of Dean asleep in the Impala). The stranger, whoever he was, stood right behind Sam and leaned over him, pressing the phone closer to his face while also pressing his thighs into the table edge. Sam struggled briefly, causing Dean’s sleepy face to dance in front of him, but doing nothing to remove the stranger’s weight on his back.

“Speak!” the voice commanded him, but Sam pressed his lips together instead. Something gripped his bad arm and squeezed, and pain exploded down his side. Sam’s vision immediately tunnelled. This was something that happened sometimes when he was injured; his eyes would pinpoint one thing and the rest would black out. Useful when fighting off an attacker, but not when someone was pinning you to a table with your broken bones. His eyes wavered on Dean’s closed eyes. _He looks sleepy_ Sam mused distractedly, and then pain shot through his arm again and he called out to that familiar face.

“Dean!”

“Proof of life!” the voice said, and then Dean’s face disappeared, though the weight on Sam’s back remained. Sam started bucking and jerking, trying to throw the guy off.

“Stop that, kid, or this party is going to finish before it even starts.” A hand planted itself between Sam’s shoulder blades and pushed, keeping him flat against the table and making him struggle to squeeze a breath into his lungs.

“You have another sixty seconds,” the stranger said, “and then I’ll call you.” _Beep_.

Sam was still gasping at the air, so he didn’t immediately notice the items being placed next to his head. When the pressure was lifted from his back he sucked in a breath and tried not to choke as his airways clawed at the oxygen. He felt weak, and his tongue was swollen and dry. He needed to get out, fast, before he lost even more energy to the pain in his arms and body. That’s when he noticed the items sitting two inches from his nose. He wasn’t too interested in the little blue square of plastic, but next to it there was… a pair of scissors. Was this guy really dumb enough to leave a weapon in easy reach? Sam was about to make a lunge for it when the hand came back to lean against his broken arm.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” said the voice. “They’re for your brother, you see. To get him here faster. Now you do exactly as your told, and when Dean gets here I’ll let you go in exchange. But until then you’re going to scream and cry and bleed, and I’m going to make sure Dean catches every moment of it, and then, when he arrives in fear and fury, I’m going to rip his fucking limbs off.” The guy chuckled. “Ready to play your part, Sammy?”

Sam twisted to try and look over his shoulder, but caught only a glimpse of the empty warehouse and the man behind him, holding his phone, before he was pushed back down. “Who-?” he asked. “W-why? Wha-?”

“The name’s Cole. Cole Trenton. And I’m the one who’s going to bring Dean Winchester down.”

Then Cole was putting Sam’s phone on the table again, propped upright to face them, and instead of pressing ‘call’ he pressed ‘video call’.

It took a moment to connect. Cole took that moment to drape himself back over Sam, paying no heed to the broken limb in between them. Dean’s blurry face fuzzed onto the little phone screen.

“Sam?” he asked over loudspeaker. “Sammy?”

Sam just groaned in response. Cole answered for him. “Hey-ya, Dean. Any update on that arrival time, or have I failed to provide adequate proof of my sincerity?” He punctuated the last word by pushing his chest into Sam’s restrained arms, making Sam’s eyes water. He almost yelled in pain, but managed to choke the sound off in his throat.

“Get the fuck off him!” Dean yelled, his face contorting with rage. “Sam you hold tight, y’ hear? I’mma get you out of there and then I’ll tear his fucking face off. You hang in there, brother, I’m coming for you. I’m coming for you both.”

“So no improvement on the original E.T.A.?” Cole replied, nonplussed. “Shame. Sammy and I will have to entertain ourselves until you get here. Maybe we can convince you to press that pedal a little harder, isn’t that right, Sam?” Cole slunk forward slightly until his head was resting on Sam’s shoulder, and Sam could feel him smirking toward the phone. “Now don’t you dare hang up, Dean-o. I don’t want to take out my anger on Sam, here, but I will if I have to.”

“Dean!” Sam said suddenly. “It’s a tra-” he was cut off by a sharp blow to the back of his head. His forehead cracked on the wooden tabletop, and he spasmed once against his bonds.

“Nuh uh, Sammy. None of that, now. Keep your wits about you. I’d prefer to do this with you awake, but I’ll knock you out if I have to.”

“Don’t fight him, Sam,” Dean said, all authority. “Save your energy. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Dean was right. Sam tried to relax his shoulders, and Cole patted his cheek. “Good boy,” he purred into Sam’s ear. “Good choice. Now why don’t you tell your brother what’s in front of you?”

Sam blinked at the objects. His eyes were still swimming slightly. “There’s the phone, and there’s a, uh, pair of scissors, and some plastic.”

“Tell Dean what the plastic is,” Cole encouraged, his hips pushing slightly, forcing Sam into the table edge again.

Sam eyed the blue square, and the white letters slowly zoomed into focus. He choked, and Cole chuckled.

“Sam?” Dean prompted.

“Go on,” said Cole.

“It-It’s a,” he stammered, then cleared his throat. “It’s a condom.”

There was a full five seconds of silence.

Dean’s voice was quiet, and cold, and deadly.

“A what?”

Cole chuckled again, and reached around Sam to pick up the scissors.

“Sam and I are going to have a little fun before you get here,” he said, “so feel free to turn up at any time if you want to get little brother here out of trouble.”

Sam felt one of the scissor blades rest against the small of his back, the metal cold against his skin. Cole started cutting upwards, shredding Sam’s clothing as he went.

“You may want to hurry, though,” he said to the phone. “I’m not a patient guy, and your brother, well, he looks divine right now.”

The sound of a revving engine played out from the phone speakers.

The scissors turned and cut across Sam’s sleeves, leaving the ends where they were caught beneath the ropes, and catching momentarily on his skin as they did. Sam let out an involuntary sound at the sharp sting.

“Get. Your hands. Off. My brother.”

“Come here and make me, Dean-o.”

Sam’s jacket and shirts pooled uselessly onto the tabletop, and Cole ripped them away. Goosebumps danced their way down his back and arms in response to the fear or the horror or, hell, maybe just in response to the cold empty air.

The scissors made short work of his jeans and boxers, and soon Sam was left in nothing except his boots, shackled against the heavy table.

“Do you know what I’m going to do now, Sam?” Cole asked, lightly trailing the cold scissor blade over Sam’s skin.

“Don’t you listen to him, Sammy,” Dean called, his voice rough. “Stay with me, y’hear?”

Sam twisted his head into the table, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t want to think about it. His ripped clothing. The condom. Cole’s hands. His mind skittered around, refusing to rest on a single thought. The scissor blade slipped lower, until it was sliding down the cleft of Sam’s ass.

“Do you know,” Cole repeated, siding the blade lower, “what I’m going to do, Sam?” Sam whimpered, but didn’t answer. The scissor blade tapped once, twice, against his hole, and he moaned in fear. Every muscle was tensed up, and his arm was protesting the added pressure caused by the taut ropes, but he couldn’t make himself relax.

“Tell Dean what I’m about to do,” Cole told him, whispering evilly into his ear. The scissor blade pressed harder against him; a warning.

“He’s- he’s going to- He’s about to-” Sam was stuttering wildly, and couldn’t form the sentence. Cole tsked, and pushed against him harder. Sam tensed further, and the blade didn’t push inside him. Not yet.

“Dean,” said Cole, “perhaps you should tell your brother? He seems somewhat… unprepared.”

“D-Dean!” Sam yelped. He was so, so cold. The freezing metal tapping against his ass was leeching all the warmth from his body, while his broken arm leeched all his strength. His breath started coming in gasps. He focused on Dean’s voice. Dean would know what to do. Dean would save him.

“O-okay, Sam,” said Dean. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m right here, man. Look at me. Hey, Sam, Sammy, look at me now, okay?”

“You have sixty seconds,” Cole told them, “then I’m getting started whether he’s ready or not.”

“Look at me, Sam.” Dean was beginning to sound calm, and in control. Sam was the opposite of calm and controlled. His body felt alien. He was shaking violently. “Sammy,” Dean repeated, “look at me.” Sam raised his head, and there he was. Dean had moved his phone to sit on his dash, so Sam could see him in semi-profile, as though they were driving side-by-side. That familiar pattern of stubble and skin. He relaxed marginally. Dean would know what to do.

“Sam, I want you to listen to me very carefully.”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice small.

“I’m not going to get there in time.”

Sam let out a single sob. “ _Dean_.”

“I need you to relax for me. He-he’s going to rape you, Sammy, and I won’t be there in time to stop him. I need you to relax for me, okay? Just relax everything you can, and try and take yourself somewhere else, and I’ll be there soon, Sam. I’mma be there as soon as I can.”

Sam screamed as Cole lowered himself over Sam’s body again.

“Relax!” yelled Dean. “Sam, relax!”

“It’s nothing personal,” Cole whispered into his ear, too quietly for Dean to hear, “but I need to kill your brother, and I need him off his game when he gets here. I don’t wanna hurt you, kid, but I’m going to, anyway. I’m going to hurt you a lot, and I want you to scream and beg for me to stop. I want you to scream and beg as loudly as you can, but I want you to know that it won’t make a difference.” He leaned back slightly and something hard rocked against Sam’s ass. “Now,” he said to Sam, louder, so Dean could hear. “I suggest you take your brother’s advice, kid.”

“Sam!” Dean yelled, as Cole pushed against him, hard. Sam automatically tensed up, his arm protesting, but this time Cole didn’t stop.

“Sam, remember that trip we took with Dad one year?” Dean’s voice was coming from a long way away, and Cole was still pushing. “Remember the little hut by the lake? Remember how warm it was? We were sweating all week.”

Sam did remember, but it hadn’t been a holiday. They had been hunting. He tried to focus on Dean anyway, tried to distance himself from the feel of another man against his body.

“Just think about that trip, Sammy. Remember how good the water felt when we went swimming.”

Cole snarled behind him, and thrust forward, and Sam’s entire lower half turned to jelly. _Oh god_ , he thought. _He’s in me. He’s inside me_. The pain was incredible, like Cole was fucking him with a splintered tree trunk. Sam thought he could feel the actual shards of wood imbed themselves into his flesh, but a distant part of his mind contended that it was actually his skin tearing in sensitive streaks. Cole was literally ripping him apart.

“Remember when we went swimming, Sam? Remember?”

Sam’s face felt swollen, and he tried to care that he was crying, but couldn’t.

“Or the time we went on a trip to the ice caves up north. Remember that, Sam? Remember how much fun we’d had exploring those caves?”

Cole was still pushing, and Sam was still crying, but something was snagging against Sam’s mind. They hadn’t been on a holiday up north, either. They had been hunting then, too.

“Look at me, Sammy, and tell me you remember. Come on, man. Look at me, okay?”

Sam opened his eyes again, and tried to lose himself in Dean’s face. He wondered if Cole was even halfway in. He wondered what would happen when Cole was all the way inside him. He wondered if he would die before then.

“Do you remember, Sam? Do you remember the caves? Remember how _many_ there were?”

That was wrong, too. There had only been one cave.

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Cole twisted sharply behind him and he screamed instead, his vision tunnelling in on Dean’s face, open and scared and savage.

“Good try keeping your brother distracted, Dean, but you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Sam! Sam! Come on, man, stay with me. Stay awake!”

Sam _was_ awake, could feel every inch of Cole’s dick inside him. He could feel Cole’s hands on his hips, too, crushing bruises into his skin. A second later, he could feel Cole’s belly against his back as Cole finally, finally, settled all the way inside of Sam. Sam continued staring at Dean, waiting for the black edges to recede from around his brother’s face.

“Dean,” Cole moaned, “your brother feels amazing. A little dry, yeah, but he opened up for me so good. So _tight_ for me, Sam.”

Dean was snarling, his face contorted in rage. The black edges in Sam’s vision weren’t receding, so he kept staring at his brother, waiting for the pain to fade. Suddenly, he was staring at the wall instead of Dean’s face. Cole had leaned over him to grab the phone.

“I think you should see for yourself,” Cole was saying, and Sam heard him manoeuvre the camera over Sam’s wrecked body, zooming in on where he was bent and connected to Cole. He could feel Cole twisting behind him, no doubt to get a better angle.

The unmistakable sound of skidding tires and honking horns announced Dean’s reaction. Cole chuckled. “I know it looks bad,” he said, “but it feels _so good_ , Dean. Wish you could be here to see it. You’re made for this, aren’t you, Sam? Made to take my cock. Nothing but a filthy slut, Sam. And I’m going to wreck you for everyone else.”

“Don’t listen to him, Sam, block him out. Focus on me, okay? Try to remember the north caves.”

Cole turned the call volume down until Dean’s voice was whisper quiet. Sam could just hear him over the sound of his own heart. He was yelling now, telling Sam to relax, and to remember.

 _I remember_ , he wanted to say. But his vision was still dark, and he couldn’t form the words.

“That’s right,” said Cole, “nothing but a goddamn whore.” He was talking loudly, loud enough that Dean would be able to hear. Sam could almost make out the sounds of Dean’s protests, but Cole was louder, and drowned him out. “You think you don’t deserve this? _Please_. You deserve nothing _but_ this, Sam.” He ground himself against Sam, his dick jerking where it was buried inside him. Then he reached around, to where Sam’s dick lay limp and small on the table. Sam moaned in fear. “I’m going to fuck you until your blind with it. Until even Dean won’t be able to put you back again.” He started jerking Sam off, stroking with a firm hand, while staying buried inside him. Sam squirmed, but that only pushed him further onto Cole’s cock. “You let him run loose all these years. You’re just as bad as he is. Worthless brother. Worthless son.” Cole picked up the phone in one hand, and used the other to pull at Sam’s hair, forcing his head back and pulling Sam further onto his dick. “You hear that, Dean? I’m just reminding your brother how worthless he is.” Dean’s answering roar was too quiet. “Now don’t you try to correct me, Dean-o. I’m going to put the phone back and you’re going to agree with me. You’re going to tell your brother how worthless he is, or I’m going to start using these scissors on Sam’s skin, instead of his clothes.”

The phone was replaced in front of Sam’s eyes, and Dean’s face was white. He tried to tell his brother that he was okay, but pain and fatigue were making him woozy. All he managed was a soft sort of moan.

“Tell him,” Cole prompted, and then he began to slide out of Sam. Slowly, so slowly, sawing at fresh wounds and ripping new ones, too.

“Sam,” said Dean, quietly. Sam could see him struggling. The urge to protect battling with the urge to fight.

“Tell him!” Cole snapped again, and pulled at Sam’s hair cruelly, exposing Sam’s throat and making it difficult to breath. His other hand pulled mercilessly at Sam’s cock, and despite the pain in his thighs, and arms, and ass, Sam felt himself begin to harden. Cole snapped his hips forward, pulling Sam against him to thrust deep. Something inside of Sam lit up at the pressure, and he almost passed out again, choking. Cole thrust against the spot again. “Tell him!”

“You’re worthless,” Dean blurted. “God, Sam, I’m so sorry.”

Dean’s words were ethereal to Sam’s tired, oxygen-starved brain. They combined with the increasing pain, and the growing pleasure, and Sam sobbed. “D-De-?”

Cole let go of his hair and threw him down, then started fucking Sam in earnest. “Worthless,” he said with every thrust, pushing Sam into the table with words, and hands, and cock. “Worthless.” Sam’s dick, now untouched, didn’t mind it’s change in position, and continued hardening. Cole’s thrusts forced it to rub roughly between Sam’s belly and the tabletop. He hissed at the pressure, and tried to slink away from the table, but could find no traction. He was painfully hard, now, and the pleasure felt like a betrayal.  

“Look at him, Dean. About to come on my cock. See how pitiful he is? Worthless.” Sam was shaking with the need to come. Cole moved the phone to a better angle, tilting Sam’s head toward it. “I want you to see him, Dean. Want you to see what a worthless slut he is.”

Sam stared at his brother’s face, inches from his own. “Dean,” he sobbed. “ _Dean_.” Then he was shattering, hard, more pain than pleasure as Cole pushed his body into the unforgiving wood, and continued to fuck him. There was a mess underneath Sam’s belly, and his sensitive dick stuck and slimed through it when Cole thrust deep. The pleasure subsided, and Sam’s arms and legs brought him back to his senses. _What had he just done_? The darkness at the edge of his vision looked awfully inviting, and Sam tried to succumb. Everything started going fuzzy, and Sam liked that just fine. _This is much better_ he thought to himself, as he began to shut down.

“Sam!” Dean was screaming. “Sam! Answer me! Stay awake, Sam! I’m coming, I’m coming!” It seemed as though Dean had forgotten about the lake, and the north cave. Sam thought it was probably because he hadn’t answered fast enough. _Worthless_. The impala was fast enough, he thought vaguely. He hummed to himself, and his mind slid around a bit, as though everything in Sam’s head was mush. _Worthless_. He thought maybe he’d feel a bit better if he could get further away from that word, but he also thought his brother sounded kind of scared, and that was just wrong. He hummed some more, and slid around in his own mind a while longer.

The north cave. He hummed. _Worthless_. One cave. Or was it many? _Worthless_. How many lakes had it been? _Worthless_.

And then it clicked. Only one cave, but hundreds of ghosts. They’d been surprised by the lot of them, expecting only one angry spirit.

And the lake, too. They’d been expecting a cruel monster in the water, but had been forced to battle two dozen of the slimy creatures.

Dean was asking him how many monsters there were.

“I r’member,” Sam slurred towards Dean’s face. “The caves. An’ the lake.”

Dean was almost crying in relief. “Sam, oh my god, Sam.”

“Thought you’d passed out, kid,” said Cole behind him, sounding breathless. _He’s breathless because he’s close to orgasm_ , said the slushy part of Sam’s mind. Maybe he _had_ blacked out.

“The caves,” Sam said, “an’ the lake. The cottage. We had th’ whole place to ourselves.” _We’re alone_.

Dean’s eyes widened.

“That’s right, Sam. That’s right. All to ourselves. Remember your room, Sam? Remember how long you took arranging it?” _Where are you?_

“Put all my stuff on the far side, De. Remember?” _Opposite the door. Clear space in between_.

“You tried so hard to keep me out.” _Lock?_

Sam tried to remember the layout of the room. Had there been a lock on the door? He couldn’t remember. He was about to say so, but Cole interrupted. His thrusts were stuttering.

“This is all, _aah_ , touching, _ngh_ , but I think you’ve forgotten your purpose, Sam.” _Keep Dean angry_. “How far are you now, Dean-o?”

“Ten minutes, assbutt. I’m breaking every road rule I know. And some I don’t.”

 _Assbutt_? thought Sam. It was one of their code words. It meant Dean was about to do something incredibly stupid.

“Ten minutes? Shame. You’ll miss the finale. I think I’ll shout your name as I come inside your brother. How about that? Maybe I can make him scream your name too.”

Cole grabbed at his arms, still lashed together, and tugged him upwards. Sam howled in agony as his bones ground together. Cole kept pumping into him regardless.

“Dean didn’t save you,” he groaned into Sam’s ear. “He left you here to die.”

The impala’s engine was revving violently, and Sam almost thought it was louder than before, but everything was becoming fuzzy again with the addition of this fresh wave of pain. Cole squeezed harder.

“I’m going to kill him,” Cole groaned again, hot breath wet against Sam’s neck. “I’m going to kill Dean Winchester and there’s nothing you’ll be able to do to stop me. _Fuck_ , I hope you’re watching, Dean, I’m about to make your brother my bitch.”

“Dean,” Sam whimpered, feeling himself slide into darkness again. “Dean.”

Cole groaned above him, repeating the word. “ _Dean_ ,” he bit out.

The entire far wall of the warehouse exploded, and before Sam could process that _the impala_ was now _lodged in the wall_ , a single gunshot rang out, and Cole slumped, pulling free of Sam sickeningly, and releasing his arms. Sam fell forward, gasping.

“Sam!” Dean was calling to him. Sam tried to look up at the phone, but there was a lot of dust in the air, and he coughed instead. Dean’s voice was coming from the wrong direction.

“It’s okay, Sammy, I’m here, I’m here.” Something was tugging at the ropes around his arms, and it felt like agony against his bones. He tried to pull away. “Damn, these knots are tight. Who was this guy?” Sam realised he had stopped shaking, and if his brain wasn’t so slushy he probably would have thought that this was a bad thing, and had something to do with shock, but as it was he could do little more than struggle weakly against the tugging on his arms.

“Okay, Sam, okay, I’m gonna leave them on. The knife is in the car. You stay with me, got that? Just listen to my voice. I’m getting you outta here. Just listen to my voice and hold on.”

“Worthless,” said Sam in a monotone. “Worthless.”

“No, Sam, _God_ , of course not.”

The pressure on Sam’s left ankle lifted, and he tried to move his leg, but shooting pains in his thighs and ass made him reconsider. His other ankle was freed, but he stayed where he was, lying on the table in pain.

“Come on, Sam, time to go. Let’s get you to a hospital.”

“Worthless,” Sam mumbled.

“I don’t want to ever hear you say that word again. You got that, Sam? Not ever.”

“Made me...”

“Yeah, Sammy, I know, I know.”

Dean’s hands began to gently lift Sam by the shoulders, trying not to touch his arms at all. Sam struggled. He knew what was on the table beneath him, and didn’t want Dean to find further evidence of his pitiful body.

“Come on, Sam, don’t fight. It’s me, it’s Dean. I gotta… I gotta get you to a hospital, man.”

“Leave me alone,” Sam sobbed, trying to roll away from Dean’s gentle hands, and getting himself an armful of pain in return. “No hospital.”

“Stop it, Sam, you’re hurting yourself.”

“Worthless,” he reiterated.

“Sam, I only want to say this once, so listen carefully. You are not worthless. You have never been worthless. I mean, shit, I was trying to remind you of that with that story at the lake. I would’ve been killed if you hadn’t been there that trip. Those fucking slime monsters. And then you turned the story around to give me intel instead. I would’ve died in the caves, too, except you remembered how to make a bomb out of marshmallows and lighter fluid. Come on, man. You’re Sam fucking Winchester. Don’t give up on me now.”

“Made me… he made me come, De.” Sam hated how small his voice sounded.

“I know, Sam, I know. I got you now, though. He ain’t gonna hurt anyone ever again.” Dean finally succeeded in lifting Sam off the table, but Sam felt the cold air on his wet belly and cock, and started struggling again.

“Don’t… don’t, Dean. Don’t look.”

“Don’t _what_? Sam, quit it with the embarrassment. Listen, your… I mean, your body… it’s just, you know… it’ll do stuff without your permission, you know? Jesus, man, I cannot believe we are having this conversation right now. Sex is sex, okay? Your dick is going to react to that no matter where you are or who you’re with. So just… just drop it, okay? Nothing to be ashamed about.”

“My dick… doesn’t care…”

“Exactly.”

Sam hummed, and rested more fully on Dean’s shoulder, letting himself get led to the impala, which was looking better than could be expected considering it was where a wall was supposed to go. He tried to muster up some indignity that he was stark naked and dripping blood and dried jizz, but Dean was making soothing nonsense sounds against his jaw, and manoeuvring him to lean against the car while he put out a towel and some painkillers. He got a knife out of the boot and cut Sam’s wrists free, and Sam tried to grab for more painkillers, but Dean threw them under the front seat. Then he wrapped a makeshift sling around Sam’s neck to support his broken arm. Sam didn’t remember getting in to the car, or falling asleep, but he woke up as they pulled into the bunker, and smiled to find himself under Dean’s jacket. His brain still felt like slush, and he was going to need a whole lot of painkillers to get through the week, but he was going to be okay.

Dean looked over at him. “Home sweet home, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam,” he replied, then let himself fall back asleep. Dean would take care of the rest, he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Someone rapes Sam with Dean being forced to watch. He/She forces Sam to come and he’s humiliated and ashamed that his body responded and that his brother seen it all. Dean is furious and manages to free himself and kill the one hurting his brother and then tries to convince Sam it wasn’t his fault.
> 
> The sister fic (set in the same episode, but with dark demon!Dean instead of this nice caring human!Dean) is a lot more violent, and Cole doesn't get to die quiet as quickly. The only bit it shares is the pairing and Cole bringing out the scissors. You can read it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7570450)
> 
> Feedback is, as always, highly appreciated.


End file.
